Dish Best Served
by Mizu Iruka
Summary: Set in Season 8, tag to 2.14. Sam murdered Steve Wandell years ago while he was possessed by Meg, and after all this time, he'll need to answer to Wandell's daughter. Sam POV. Oneshot.


"What's it for you? Work, family, or girl?"

Sam turned, finding a girl offering him a wry look. He huffed a quiet laugh. "All of the above. Though work actually panned out for once."

The girl raised her glass. "Power to you."

She was clearly drunk. Sam quirked an eyebrow. "You?"

Her smile was bitter. "No family, no friends, and someone messed up my job. Life's just great. I'm Kelly."

"Sorry to hear that, Kelly. I'm Sam." Sam returned to his own beer. He just wanted some peace. No Dean making accusations about Amelia, no Dean angry at him for leaving him in purgatory, no Dean, tense and always ready to fight . . .

"I've seen you somewhere, before."

Sam stiffened at those words, reconsidering the girl. Harmless enough, usually, but with their line of work . . . "I doubt that. Just passing through," he parried.

"You sure?" Her blue eyes were dull with alcohol, but still somewhat penetrating.

"I've never met you," Sam said. Kelly finally nodded, and Sam sighed in relief and changed the subject. "So what happened with your job?"

Her fingers clenched around her glass. "I was so close. But someone came in first and finished the job for me." She took a swig of whatever she was drinking. "S'not like I would've made money. But it's the principle of the thing."

"What's your work?"

Her eyes narrowed. "None of your business."

Sam held up his hands in defense. "Hey, just making conversation."

"Yeah, well . . ." Kelly drained her glass. "I hate conversation."

Sam scowled a little. "You started it."

"Oh. I did. Sorry." The girl stood, somewhat tipsily.

"Maybe you should go home," Sam suggested.

"Don' . . . Don't have a home."

She was pathetic enough to have Sam helping her stand. He wasn't one to pick up girls at a bar, and he still had feelings for Amelia, but he couldn't think of anything else to do. "You can crash at the motel where I'm staying."

Kelly scowled. "I'm not sleeping with you."

"No, no! Just . . . look, what else are you going to do?"

She considered. "Wander until some guy tries to rape me, beat him up, and steal his wallet."

Sam didn't hide an appalled look. She waved a hand and muttered "joking."

"Promise, I won't do anything. I've got a brother there, already. Dean."

"So two against one."

Sam began to protest, but she suddenly offered a smile. "I'm just kidding, I'd really appreciate somewhere to sleep."

* * *

"Dude. Why is there a girl in our shower?"

Sam sighed. "She was drunk, didn't have a place to stay."

"So you're letting her stay here?" Dean said with some spite. "That's a jerk move if I ever saw one."

"What are you talking about?"

"I won't be able to sleep, knowing there's some strange girl here."

"Dean, I'll stay awake. Make sure she doesn't do anything. You can trust me."

That got a response Sam was dreading. A flash of an incredulous gaze, a scoffing breath. It hurt every time.

"Can't remember the last time I took a hot shower. You guys got lucky with this room. You're Dean?" Her voice was still slurred.

Dean seemed slightly mollified, seeing how petite the girl was-and her looks probably helped as well. "That's me. What's your name?"

"Kelly." The girl wobbled her way over to one of the chairs. "I'll try for enlightened conversation in the morning, after the hangover."

Sam intercepted her. "You can take the bed."

She peered up at him blearily. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She passed out as soon as she hit the bed. Sam headed for the shower himself, ignoring Dean's look.

"So Amelia's out of the picture, then?"

Sam didn't deign to offer his brother an answer.

* * *

One sleepless night didn't bug Sam. The devil had once kept him up long enough to nearly kill him. So he got some research done, did his workout as silently as possible, deleted some more college emails-because whatever Dean thought, he wasn't about to back out of hunting now that his brother was back.

Sam was startled to find the girl watching him, her eyes a startling bright blue, now that she wasn't drunk.

"I've got a headache," Kelly announced. "And I'm happy you didn't try anything."

"Uh, sure," Sam laughed bemusedly. From the other bed, Dean shot upright, looking annoyed and alarmed at the same time.

"Sorry," Kelly said cheerfully. "I'm a morning person."

"Even with a hangover?" Dean ground out, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Dad always told me I was too good at drinking for my own good." Her face scrunched up comically. "That sentence didn't make any sense." Her eyes drifted over to Sam, who felt slightly unnerved at the way she was watching him.

"Right, well, I'm gonna go get breakfast. I'll be right back."

* * *

His return was heralded by a conspicuous silence. He had expected Dean to be chatting the girl up, but somehow he was rolled over, under the sheets.

"Kelly?" he questioned, and she shrugged.

"Guy was tired."

"Huh." Sam closed the door, and then heard the tell-tale noise of a bullet being chambered.

"Sam Winchester. I knew I recognized you."

Internally, Sam swore. "Meg?" he asked aloud, though that made no sense.

Kelly cocked her head at him. "Who's Meg?"

"Demon." That ruled out practically any demon. "What'd you do to Dean?"

Kelly waved an airy hand. "Knocked him out. No worries, I'm a professional."

"Professional at what?" Sam asked.

"I think you know the answer to that."

"You're a hunter."

"Bingo." Kelly stood, and despite her small size, Sam now recognized how graceful, yet powerful her movements seemed.

"Dean's gonna kill me for this one," he muttered.

"Not if I kill you first." Kelly licked her lips, looking nervous.

"Can I have an explanation before you murder me?" Sam put especial emphasis on the word 'murder,' pushing at her apparent discomfort.

"It's been years. Years and years. I don't know if it's fate or just chance, but finding you here . . ." Kelly ran her free hand through her short hair. Despite her nervous motions, her gun hand was frighteningly still.

"I don't understand."

"Actually, I don't understand. Even after all this time, I never could figure it out. Why would a hunter murder someone? It doesn't make sense."

Sam was totally lost. "I've never . . ."

"Steve Wandell," Kelly snapped. "My father. You slit his throat on January 28th, 2007."

Sam's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. He had almost forgotten about Wandell. He had been possessed, by Meg. He vaguely remembered knowing that Wandell had a daughter in college, but beyond that . . . Sam swallowed convulsively. "His daughter."

"Yeah. So you knew about me." Her blue eyes were hard with anger.

"I didn't kill your father," Sam protested. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean stir. He willed him to wake up silently.

"Yeah, nice try. I saw the tape." Sam felt even more confused, but before he could ask, she laughed bitterly. "You forgot to check for a back-up on the security cameras."

"Listen, I know what it looked like, but if you know about hunting, then you know about demons. I was possessed. This demon named Meg, she was possessing me."

The girl laughed incredulously. Dean was turning over, his eyes blinking open . . . Sam kept his gaze locked onto the Kelly's.

"Nice story. I mean, come on, you couldn't even come up with another name? You just mentioned a demon named Meg. And then you turn around and try and stick her with the blame."

Sam closed his eyes. "I know it looks bad. But you have to believe me. That was when we first knew her."

"You're a terrible hunter, if you haven't ganked her after all this time."

Sam couldn't get a bead on her. She knew the lingo, acted like a real hunter . . .

Dean took her down brutally. Sam winced as she hit the floor-hard.

"Do I even need to say it?" Dean groused.

"You're the one she knocked out," Sam muttered.

"Bringing girls back to the motel. Never cool."

"No more compassion for other humans. Got it," Sam returned sarcastically.

Dean mumbled something in response, and began pulling the girl over to the bed. "Just help me tie her up."

* * *

Her eyes blinked, and then focused on Sam's with a swiftness that threw him off.

"Darn it."

"You shouldn't underestimate Dean," Sam said softly. He caught a glimpse of Dean's surprised face at that, but Sam kept his focus on Kelly. She was struggling futilely.

"Kelly, you have to believe me. I didn't kill your father."

Her face was weary. "I know."

That stopped him. "What?"

"You don't think it would take me . . . has it been five years now? to find you? I've been keeping tabs. Figured out who you were from a hunter friend. I mean, it was touch and go there, for a while, 'specially when I heard you started the apocalypse. But you didn't murder anyone else, as far as I could tell. Plus, hunt comes first. And there was lots, with the apocalypse."

Sam shrugged uncomfortably. "Only thing I knew about you was that you were in college."

"Yeah, thanks for the phone call, letting me know my dad was dead. He was rotting on the floor when I came back for a weekend. Lovely smell." Kelly shifted once more, pulling at the handcuffs

Sam winced. "We were still trying to figure out what was going on. I couldn't remember much, and . . ."

"I know, I know. Just stop it, okay? I've been possessed before. I know what happens."

"If you knew I was possessed, then why . . ."

". . . did I give you a hard time?" Kelly twisted her face in a pained version of a smile. "I didn't know for sure. There were signs, like the bottle of holy water on the floor. The salt line being broken. But I had to be sure."

Dean finally spoke up. "No need to knock me out. This was between the two of you." Sam shot Dean an annoyed look.

She shrugged. "You got to repay the favor." Dean actually chuckled at that.

"So you're not gonna kill me?" Sam checked.

"Please. Much as I'd love to blame you, you didn't kill my dad. Plus, there's two of you, and one of me. And you guys are way too big."

Dean unlocked her, but kept one hand on his gun. Kelly threw him a look.

"You guys stole my job, didn't you?"

Sam half-grinned. "Sorry about that. Would've been all yours if we had known."

Kelly sighed. "You guys are quite the team. I'm jealous. Finishing off that poltergeist would've taken me at least a couple more days."

Sam stole a quick look at his brother. A team? They hadn't felt like a team ever since purgatory. Dean looked a little guilty.

Kelly collected her weapons, finally turning back to them.

"Have you been a hunter all along, or was it only when your dad . . ." Sam let his voice trail off.

"Don't feel guilty. My dad trained me. I went to college studying ancient civilizations. Comes in handy during hunts."

Sam couldn't hide his relief. "Oh. That's . . . smart."

"I know it is." Kelly finished arming herself. "Look, I've mostly avoided getting involved with other hunters. And really, with the lack of contact, I kind of figured they were extinct. But finding you two, after all this time . . ."

"What do you want?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"The hunter friend I mentioned. Jo Harvelle. She was my best friend growing up, and after the apocalypse deal, I lost track of her."

Dean looked pained. "She died."

Kelly sighed. "I figured. Her mom too?"

"They died together," Sam said quietly.

Kelly nodded. "Not many left, then?"

Sam shook his head. "We're an endangered species."

The girl pressed her lips together, before seeming to come to an internal decision. "I'm mostly independent. But there have been a couple times, when I needed back-up and there wasn't anybody . . ." Her bright eyes went distant with pained memories, and Sam felt a terrible kind of pity for her being all alone. He knew the feeling.

"We'll help you whenever we can," Sam promised. He pulled one of the motel pads over and scribbled down his number. "No one should do this completely alone."

"Yeah." Kelly's bright eyes dragged from Sam over to Dean, with something like wistfulness in them. "I'll see you two around."

"Sure."

"And it works the other way. Give me a call, if you need my help." She handed Sam a business card. Sam read it quickly, and then looked at her.

"Professional dog catcher?"

She smirked. "You wouldn't believe how many supernaturals I get. People always blame dogs. Also, reward money for a lost pooch pays for gas."

"Nice," Dean said.

"Not that this hasn't been fun, but there's a hunt a couple states over. And I'm calling it. It's mine."

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Wendigo," Kelly grinned, "it's been far too long since I've gotten to go on a genuine camping trip."

"You have fun with that," Dean muttered. "We hate camping."

Kelly nodded, her bright blue eyes meeting Sam's once more. "Take care."

"You too."

* * *

"What do you think? How many other hunters are drifting out there?" Dean looked oddly thoughtful.

Sam sank back against the Impala's seat. "I dunno, man. We've always steered clear of others. Bobby was the in-between."

Dean shot him a glance. "You think we should change that?"

Sam considered it, and then shook his head. "It never works out well. Look at what happened with our grandfather."

"Fair point. Still . . ." Dean sighed. "This gig's lonely enough."

Sam couldn't help but feel that his brother was saying something against him. He hid the pain carefully.

"At least I've got you."

Sam turned to Dean, shocked. His brother looked supremely uncomfortable.

"Don't turn this into a chick-flick moment, man. I'm just saying. Kelly looked miserable."

"Yeah," Sam said quietly. "And thanks. I know I should've looked for you, and . . ."

"Dude, let it go. It's about time I did, so don't you keep bringing it up."

Sam allowed himself to really smile. "You got it."

* * *

A/N: New episode on wednesday! Though I don't think it'll be that great.

Anyway, I hope I didn't make her too much of a mary sue. It bugged me that there was never any follow-up for Wandell. I was debating over what season to set this story in, and it was too much of a temptation to put it in season 8 so I could try and fix up some Dean'n'Sam problems. Because it is annoying me SO MUCH how they don't act like brothers anymore. ugh. rant over.


End file.
